The Heart's Storage
by ThePassionateArtist
Summary: Justin is facing death and Brian takes him on a spontanious road trip.


The Heart's Storage

"Life does not cease to be funny when people die any more than it ceases to be serious when people laugh."  
George Bernard Shaw

I remember reading the quote by George Bernard Shaw in my high school yearbook. It was a senior quote by one of the kids who graduated in my class and I always thought it odd he'd chosen a quote about death. When I got my year book, a few days after waking up from my coma, I remember staring at it and wondering if it was at all an irony that I read that after nearly dying myself.

While I know nothing about death, I know one thing. When you die they pack up your shit and put it in storage, or if you have a will they give it to the designated family members. If you're famous they keep it for a while and then auction it off years after you death, like they did to Jackie O.

I'm not famous. I don't have a will. My stuff will go to storage.

I'm sure that it sounds harsh to people who don't know, but since I was diagnosed I've been packing my own things. I figure it will be easier on those I leave behind, especially my mom and Brian. So, one by one, small things of mine would go into a box and down into the storage space Brian got as long as he lived in the loft. Less of my things were in the place and it started to seem empty.

Brian hadn't noticed really until the crayola box disappeared.

"Justin?" He asked, coming out of the bedroom after having just walked past me and doing a double take at the empty table, where the machine had once made its home.

I lifted my head up from the couch and looked at him briefly and quickly replaced it on the pillow when it seemed too heavy to carry. 

He sat down beside me.

"Where is it?" He asked, gently rubbing my calf.

It felt good and soothing as I looked into his sorrowful eyes and searched for the right words to not make the inevitable too real for his fragile heart. I say this statement simply because it is to me a fragile piece of glass, I walk a fine tight rope with it in my hands. If I slip and fall it will shatter and he very well may die with me. Brian isn't used to letting anyone in. Brian doesn't let anyone in. And my short time in his life is slowly starting to prove why he didn't. Let someone in and you'll just end up hurt.

If they don't get bored with you, they'll die instead.

"I figured it would be easier to do now when I still have most of my energy and not later when I'm confined to bed and can't even blink." I said, brushing off the fact that it was a completely defeatist attitude.

"Why do you talk like that?" Brian asked.

"Why should I lie to myself?" I replied, with a little more venom than I intended to spew his way.

He looked at me for a long time, his eyes boring into my soul and making my heart burn. And I met his gaze until I gave up the game of chicken and retreated to looking at the couch.

"Justin… please don't give up… please," He begged. Not silently but to me. Brian Kinney begged me to live.

"If I was giving up I would have killed myself." I replied, not meeting his gaze.

Realizing that this conversation was getting us nowhere, he pulled me close and held me close against his chest. I wanted to cry. I couldn't get the tears out. As he held me I snuggled close against his chest and listened. I could hear the steady, rhythmic beat of his heart and knew for maybe that brief moment, despite the thing inside me that was going to take my life, I was safe in his arms. I was his. He would protect me from whatever he could. He was my hero. He was my gay Crusader. He was Rage. And the tears came.

He pulled away and lifted my chin with his index finger. I sniffled.

"Let's get out of here." He said.

"Where will we go?" I asked, watching him get up and head to the bedroom. I didn't move.

He was throwing clothes messily into his suitcase, and then he grabbed mine and went about throwing in mine. I just watched this un-Brian like behavior in a shocked awe. Something was definitely up.

"Who cares where? Let's just go away from here, away from this two-bit burg and wherever the road takes us. Let's get in the car and drive forever."

I stared at him. He'd lost his fucking mind. Get in the car and drive forever? He must have been reading my mind because he came over with the bags and took my hand, pulling me up from the couch and into his arms. I looked up, into those amazing hazel eyes that had me enthralled since the first night.

"You're serious aren't you?"

"As a heart attack."

I nodded and grabbed my bag and put on my shoes. "Let's go."

It was a warm summer evening so Brian took the top down on the 'vette as we drove down the highway with no real purpose and no given destination. Brian and I road away from Pittsburgh, not looking back, with the wind in our hair and the song of the evening life lulling us into a calm relaxation; we didn't worry about anything other than the road in front of us, and the new adventure we were about to embark on. I stared out, watching the trees and buildings and the landscape rush passed me. I closed my eyes and just listened. The warm gentle breeze caressed my skin, making it feel soft and light as if something was telling me everything was going to be fine. I let tears flow down my cheek, closing my eyes and laying back against the seat. I was, for the first time in my young life, at peace.

Brian turned on the radio. I knew the song and hummed along. Something Corporate filled our ears and they dreamy sounds of the piano and guitar made the night seem more magical. As I listened I could hear Brian humming too. A deep, baritone angelic sound admitted from his lips and I listened so hard that I practically willed my heart to silence for his music.

_Let's get crazy, talk about our big plans. Places that you're going. Places that I haven't been. Build my walls up concrete Castle. Keep this kingdom free of hassle yeah…_

He pulled into a little gas station to fill up and grab some munchies. I stayed contently lounging in the passenger side, listening to my soothing music and being one with the emotion of the nature around me. When he came back I was singing along, without realizing it. My mind a million miles away in another place where the music was taking me, where I was lost to him; so lost that I didn't notice when we began to drive again.

_Taste the saline rolling down your cheekbone, tell me that you're alone, tell me on the telephone, feel your heart it breaks within your chest now try and get some rest now sleeps not coming easy for awhile, child. But I hear a sound echo in the emptiness; all around what you can't change is loneliness, look at what you've found I'm falling down._  
The last thing I remember hearing was the word down before the blissful darkness of slumber engulfed my consciousness and took me to the land of dreams. I remember the smooth ride lulling me deeper in as if the car was saying 'rest now Sunshine because you're safe'. And I listened because I felt safe. I knew in my heart that this journey away from home was right for us whether or not it was a one-way trip for me. And if it was, a deep part of me hoped that Brian would be able to make the trek home alone, knowing that I was all right in my eternity.

When I came back from dreamland I was in a hotel bed. It was pretty obvious to me that Brian had carried me to the hotel room he decided we should stop at, since I had no memory of waking up between when I dozed off in the Vette and finding my niche in this bed. I sat up and noticed Brian curled up beside me absentmindedly flipping through stations on the elderly little television set. He was always the type to flip constantly, never having the attention span to watch something for more than a few minutes before finding a better option. He looked over at me.

"I couldn't drive anymore tonight, and you were out like a light… so I decided to stop," He said.

A smile crept onto my face as I scooted over, laying with my head in his lap and watching as brief images appeared on the screen for split seconds before he changed the channel again. Finally I was able to convince him to rent a movie on the pay-per-view. We got Gothika. Not scary. But we watched it all the way through because it had a good suspenseful plot. Brian seemed to enjoy it and really that's all that matters.

When it was over, lights went out and we both slid back into slumber, my head on his chest, my body nestled under his protective arm. I felt good there in the gross little motel room. I couldn't wait to see where our adventure would lead us. Thunder rolled in overhead, as I closed my eyes I could here the beginning of rain on the roof our pit stop. I sighed deeply to myself enjoying the sound.

In the morning I woke to the sound of Brian fussing with a map. I yawned, stretched and woke to a bag of donuts in front of me on the table. I smirked wondering when Brian had started eating donuts. He had his back to me as he leaned over the little table with the map spread out as if he was a boats captain plotting out the course of action to reach our final destination. Final destination. 

"Did you get the kind with the filling?" I asked digging into the bag.

Brian replied with his mouth full, without turning. "Custard or strawberry goo, take your pick. What do you think of going to New Orleans, and then to Vegas? Arizona, San Diego, Los Angeles, San Francisco…"  
I laughed taking out on of the sugary 'strawberry goo' filled donuts. "Okay Brian sure."

"These are all places you should go before…" He got quiet and finally said: "…Before we go back to the Pitts."

I came over, wrapped my arms around his waist and nodded peeking my head around so that I could see the map he'd drawn out. He wrapped on arm around me, which couldn't possibly have been comfortable for him, but I don't think he gave a shit about comfort at the moment. Now I think he just wanted to have his arm around me.

"We can go to all those places." I told him.

He nodded.

I pulled away from our hug after a few minutes and turned on the TV propping myself on a pillow at the foot of the bed. I flipped through channels and came across some SNL reruns. Brian went to go shower as I lost myself in the mindless sketch comedy that hadn't appealed to him since John Belushi was on the show. As I sat there I was laughing away the tears that had begun in to well up in my eyes at Brian's hesitation to talk about my inevitable fate. As I laughed, the tears started to flow because I no longer had any control over the muscles in my face. The last thing I wanted Brian to see when he came out was my mess of tears.

I got up and wiped my face, then slowly crept into the bathroom, where Brian had the dingy shower curtain drawn closed and I could see the silhouette of his perfect form as the water trickled down him, cleansing away this nasty motel room. He hadn't heard my entrance and was still letting the warm water rinse his hair, so I leaned in and yelled as loud as I possibly could:

"I DRIVE A DODGE STRATUS!"

"JESUS CHRIST!" Came the reply, along with the sound of bottles hitting linoleum.

He pulled back the sopping curtain and glared at me intensely, the bottles at his feet and rubbing his head. I assume he hit it on the showerhead and try to look sympathetic. Before I could say a word he yanked me into the shower, still in my clothes, and pins me against the tiles. I smirked, my heart pounding a bit with adrenaline as he leaned in and kissed me hard, passionately and sensually removed my clothes. I had no choice now but to roll over and take my punishment like a man.

After leaving our mark on our little room in the cruddy motel. We headed back out onto our adventure. I didn't know what state we were in, where we'd be next or how long it would take to get there. The only thing I knew is that I was safe with Brian.

I popped in a CD and leaned back into the seat, my hand resting on the door, hanging out the window. We had the top down so the breeze was nice and relaxing. Just as I was about to fall asleep I felt a drop of liquid land on my forehead. Then another. It was raining. I sat up and watched Brian turn on his blinker and start to change lanes, pulling over to the side of the disserted road and putting on the emergency lights. I laughed loudly as he cursed, putting the top up on the Vette. When he was finished, I was still laughing and he gave me a dirty look. It only made me laugh harder.

"Twat," he muttered.

"I told you it looked like rain!"

_In the car the radio leaves me searching for your star, constellation of frustration riding high. Singing my thoughts back to me and watching heart ache on TV. But as you sleep and no one is listening I will lift you off your feet I'll keep you from sinking don't you wake up yet cause soon I'll be leaving you…_

Brian turned the CD off and made me change it for the fifth time. Every time a song mentioned something that could remotely be considered about death he made me change the CD. I didn't even think of putting in Yellowcard because I knew 'The View From Heaven' might send him driving off a cliff as he tried to focus on tossing the disc out the window. I actually doubt that since I'm sure there aren't any cliffs in Kentucky.

Or were we in Tennessee?

Along the way I'd been in and out of sleep so much (just from boredom) that I couldn't for the life of me keep track of where we were. I knew that at one point we'd stopped for dinner in Ohio. And I knew at one point a I saw a 'Welcome to Kentucky' sign and heard Brian say 'Where we can marry our cousins!'. There was no understatement to the declaration he'd made before we left about it being just the road and us. Literally, it was just the road and us.

"Good god Shelbyville, why would we want to marry our cousins? Because they're so attractive." I quoted The Simpson's.

"You've spent far too much time with Michael," Brian said trying to mock disgust. 

"Let's play the license plate game!" I said, perking up in my chair.

"Someone's feeling better." He mused.

He said that because shortly after going to a Subway I started to get the nausea that frequently plagues me since my diagnosis. But at that time it was gone and I'd decided to make this drive less boring and less of the deafening silence that road with us after turning off Something Corporate. He mentioned to me how unfair it was to him that he needed to watch the road, not watch license plates. So I told him to pull over.

When he did, I got out of the car and sat my ass down on the hood. He gave me on of his irritated glares because I was probably scratching the crap out of it with my jeans. I didn't care.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"Arkansas!" I screamed.

He looked at me dumbfounded for a minute before sighing, giving in and joining me on the hood of the Corvette. He watched me for a good minute, I continued to scream out state names of cars that I saw driving along the highway we were on and finally he shook his head, looking back out to the road.

"Minnesota!" He smirked. "You are so paying for the paint job if my hood is scratched."

A few hours and two cans of Sour Cream and Onion Pringles later, we arrived at a Holiday Inn Express. I was utterly confused as to the name express. Why was it an express? When we checked in I thought of asking the woman behind the desk, who was totally a fag-hag wannabe, what made this Holiday Inn an express as apposed to a regular Holiday Inn. But I thought better of it because the look in Brian's eyes hinted that he wanted to make this quick, so we could make with the fucking in our room.

I was shocked to discover that his intention wasn't to toss me down and stick his hot hard throbbing member in my rectum. His intention was to get down into some trunks and hit the hot tub. I didn't mind the dip myself, since I was a little stiff from sleeping in the car. I wasn't stiff in a positive life affirming way.

"Do you sleep faster here?" I asked him as we walked in our trunks to the pool.

"What are you babbling about?" he looked at me with one of his trademark-annoyed looks. 

"Well it's a Holiday Inn Express. Does that mean you sleep faster than you would at a hotel… or a regular Holiday Inn?" I asked genuinely.

"You know, sometimes I think I'd have a lot in common with Nick Lachey." He smirked, slipping into the vacant hot tub, and immediately looking relaxed.

"Oh no Mr. Kinney, you did NOT just compare me to Jessica Simpson!" I got in and splashed him.

That was when he decided to play mature older man. He gave me a look after the water hit his chest and then leaned back against the tiles. The sheer satisfaction of relaxation that melted over his features made me smile. I hadn't seen him relaxed in quite sometime, and it was a welcome change.

I watched him sit there for a good long time. I looked over the contours of his body. Every line, every crease, every definition of muscle was a new wonder to me. I was gazing on the body of a god. His sun kissed skin was shimmering as if under a holy light with the droplets of water that ran slowly, sensually down his chest, along his nipples and over his firm abs. I could feel the drool forming at the corner of my lips. I felt my breath get heavy. I wanted him to take me. I wanted him inside me. I wanted him there now.

I moved over toward him and kissed him hard, then let it linger on down his neck and over his left breast, before ending with a sensual lick around his hardening nipple. He tilted his head up and looked at me with a devilish smirk and I felt a smile creep across my face.

"Fuck me," I said, heavily, raspy.

"With pleasure," Came the reply.

Before I could say another word, he pulled me close so I straddled him and shoved his throbbing member into my waiting hole. I let a small whimper escape my lips. As he inserted himself into me, he spit the wrapper for the condom onto the concrete floor. I didn't even remember him reaching across the deck and taking out of his shirt pocket. I didn't even remember us getting naked to be honest. He thrust hard and I moaned, partly from pain and mostly from pleasure as I felt his familiar manhood make room for it's self inside me. He was grunting a little as I began to ride him, holding on with my arms around his shoulders, my eyes closed, shut tight so that I could only have visions of this moment. 

I started to dig into his back, and it made him thrust a little harder, and I rode a little faster. I didn't want to let go. I wanted to hold on to him forever. I wanted him inside me forever. The faster I rode the harder he became and when he let out a cry I felt his cock release inside the small plastic tube that separated it from my flesh. I let out a cry of my own. But it wasn't from satisfaction.

Okay it was part satisfaction and mostly shock. I opened my eyes as Brian came inside me and up on one of the balconies over looking the pool area stood a little old lady with a small fluffy dog. I felt the flush in my face as the blood ran to into it sheer embarrassment. Brian must have felt my terror, felt my heart rate pick up even more as our chests we pressed together. He turned to look and follow my gaze.

And in true Brian fashion he didn't get embarrassed. Brian likes it when people watch us have sex. Especially people unfamiliar with our world. He smiled up at the woman and then gave her a wave.

"Good evening Ma'am, I hope you enjoyed the show." He said with his patented snark.

She said something under her breath before stalking back into her room, and closing the curtains. Brian turned to meet my eyes and we stared at each other for a long moment. I felt the little chuckle begin in his chest and before long we were both laughing. I was laughing so hard I was in tears. It eventually turned into crying. Emotions tended to get the better of me lately. I could be laughing so hard I peed one minute, and completely obliterated with sadness the next. Weird shit happens when you face mortality.

Brian held me and whispered to me sweet soft hushes, and told me everything was going to be okay. I believed him and snuggled against him as he rubbed my back and kept whispering soft encouragement to me. I liked seeing this new side of Brian. I'd had a brief glimpse of it after the bashing, but this time the supportive, helpful loving Brian was almost always present. I rested against him, I listened to his heart beat in a steady, relaxing rhythm and before I knew it, everything was dark.

I woke up in the hotel bed the next morning; Brian's arms were wrapped around me protectively. I really hated this falling asleep without realizing it shit.

After another few hours on the road, we pulled into the parking lot of our hotel in New Orleans. I stepped out of the car and stretched as I looked around at my new surroundings. The south was way different from Pittsburgh. The hotel Brian picked was right on the water and there was one of those old fashioned riverboats parked at the dock. I looked over to where Brian would have been standing if he'd shared in my awestruck haze but he was already heading inside to the hotel lobby.

When I walked inside the massive hotel, I felt like I'd gone back about a hundred years. While outside it looked modern and typical of a city, on the inside it was like a giant antique. Gold tones and creams with wood and yellows, lace patterns and glass were everywhere in this enormous lobby. This was only the lobby? There was fine art everywhere, Monet and Rembrandt were on every wall I looked at. It was like I'd died and gone to Italy or something. It was an artists paradise in that lobby. I looked around at all the paintings while Brian checked into our room at the front desk and the bell hop loaded our bags onto one of those rolling things.

"We're in room 1029." Brian said behind me while I examined a Monet.

I jumped because he scared the crap out of me. And I don't mean in the literal sense, there wasn't anything in my pants. He laughed at me though, when I jumped. I turned and glared. The look on his face was adorable, and knowing Brian he'd at that description.

"C'mon Sunshine, I need a fucking shower. I wreak like ass." He said heading for the elevators.

"Yeah, you're telling me. I almost died of suffocation because there was no clean air in that cramped little corvette." I replied.

Brian stopped dead in his tracks. I didn't realize what I'd said until he turned and looked at me with an expression I hadn't seen since the parking garage when he was trying to help me remember the bashing. His face was pale, I could see the slightest hint of tears brimming in his eyes. Immediately I felt like an asshole.

"Brian?" I asked.

"Don't… please… don't joke about things like that." He said softly, I barely heard him.

I nodded and we started back into the elevator. The large doors shut on us inside and I felt immediately as if I were trapped. I can't explain what happened, but my throat tightened. I couldn't breathe and I felt like everything was closing in on me and the world was collapsing around me in this tiny elevator. I started gasping for air. I was having a complete panic attack. My last panic attack was at Gus' birthday party after I got bashed. I didn't have a lot of time to dwell on it though, because the world went dark.

Florescent lights are killer on your eyes when your head is pounding so hard you think maybe your heart traded places with your brain. After opening my eye I immediately closed them because the lights were so harsh and bright n my brain. Oh darkness, sweet darkness.

"Justin?" Brian's worried voice registered through my ears. I opened my eyes again.

He'd turned off the lights and instinctively I knew I was in a hospital. If the tell-tale signs of the rough blankets, stiff white sheets, plastic gown and the IV in my arm weren't enough to make me realize it, there was the ever present and incredibly annoying beeping coming from a monitor that made absolutely sure my heart was beating.

Brian's voice cracked. "You scared the shit out of me."

I looked at him. "I'm sorry. I don't know what happened… I just.."

"Baby?" Brian moved closer to me and took my hand.

"I just.." I swallowed remembering the visions of my panic attack. "I didn't see an elevator when I was in there and I started to panic. The doors were shutting and I kept seeing a coffin… and I freaked because I thought I was being buried alive."

He squeezed my hand, then held me close as the water works started. Brian suggested we go back to Pittsburgh and told me that maybe this trip was a bad idea and he shouldn't have suggested it. I thought a moment on his words. While going back to the Pitts might be better on my health, it would also mea that I would die in a hospital. Even dying away from everyone I know, away from home, but with Brian by my side and living out new exciting adventures was better than dying in one of these shitty beds, miserable, lonely, scared and frail.

"No," I said looking him in the eyes. "We started this and we're going to finish it, even if it finishes me."

He hesitated a minute before kissing my forehead. "Whatever you want, Sunshine."

I stayed in the hospital for one night and I didn't sleep. I didn't know if it was just the unfamiliar surroundings or the fucking beep of the heart monitor, but I was wide awake.


End file.
